Anxiety
by wiseyetharmless
Summary: I could feel a burning in my chest, a tingle in my fingertips and an ache in my neck. I knew what it all equated to. I had minutes, maybe seconds to get somewhere safe before it happened. This is a story about two boys who must learn to trust one another as they combat peer pressure, hate, and the inevitability of goodbye. (Kevedd) (one-shot turned into multi-chapter)
1. Chapter 1

_..._

_Please don't look at me. Please, please don't look at me._

I kept my head low as I hurried through the crowd of chattering teenagers. They were packed farcically tight in the small, outdated cafeteria, bodies mingling and straying in every which way. It was messy, it was unorganized, and it was actually pretty gross, but it was perfect cover. Given my small frame, I could easily slip between people and make my through a throng of people without being seen. To do so required me to involuntarily brush up against a lot of the individuals in the crowd, but it was worth it. I could disappear in a moment's notice and no one would even know I had disappeared.

Which is exactly why I was twisting and turning through the crowd at such a quick pace. I had to get away, and quickly. I could feel a burning in my chest, a tingle in my fingertips and an ache in my neck. I knew what it all equated to. I had minutes, maybe seconds to get somewhere safe before it happened. It was something I grown used to, but something I had only learned to predict a month ago. In addition, sometimes the symptoms were hard to notice, or only happened seconds before all chaos broke loose.

This particular instance, it seemed, was more favorable. I had given enough time to excuse myself from the table and run out of the cafeteria, and I was on my way to the restroom, praying that it would be empty. I wasn't sure I had time to find an empty classroom. I wasn't about to push my luck unless I absolutely had to.

I tried to keep from looking distressed, but I found it becoming harder and harder to keep calm. My breath was hitching and my stomach was dropping with a cruel, unpredictable. I practically barreled into the bathroom door, not even minding the noise or the possible germs on the polished wood. I stumbled inside the tiled room, locking myself in the first available cubicle. I slid against the wall and clutched at my hat, pulling it over my eyes. I hadn't even checked to see if the place was empty- it was too late.

Tears rolled down my cheek as I gasped, my whole body trembling. I could hear a _whoosh _in my ears, like the sound of my blood pumping furiously through my veins. I tried not imagine the blood, because it would only make it worse. I curled in on myself, putting my forhead onto my knees and my hands on my head, like I was protecting myself from an earthquake. My head was spinning, and the earth _did seem _to shake, but I knew better than to believe it was actually an tectonic plate disturbance. No, this was a disturbance of the mind. I was shaking with horror though there was no threat, I was breathing heavily though I hadn't run very far, I was crying though there was nothing to be upset about.

I was having a full on panic attack.

I moved my arms to cross over my stomach, my hands clenching desperately at my shirt sleeves, most definitely wrinkling the fabric. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep from whimpering as my entire chest filled with horrible dread that I could not explain. I tried to think of logical things- algorithms, the theory of evolution, botany, anything, but even small additions problems were beyond me. My brain was muddled, stuck on fight-or-flight mode, unable to analyze anything.

Suddenly, I felt a pounding against my back, and a faint noise. It had to be very loud for me to hear it in this state- and I knew it. It only served to scare me further, forcing me to shove my head between my knees and wrap my arms around myself, whimpering pitifully.

_No, no, no, no, leave me alone please please no no leave go away please no I don't I can't I'm not I can't I CAN'T I CAN'T-_

"D! Can you hear me? Dee!"

The voice persisted, it's familiar timber causing me to jump. I knew the voice...but form where? My heart was beating so loud, my face covered in sweat and tears, but I fought the panic that clouded my memory.

"Hey! Dee!"

_Kevin?_

The memories hit me like a ton of bricks. I remembered the tall, athletic boy that was Kevin Barr. I remembered his temper, his insults, his tired looks, his teasing, his calm face, his laughter, his famous red cap...

I could feel my body start to relax, knowing it would only be a matter of time before I was back to normal. After that, however...

"C'mon, man! Say something!"

I raised my head, blinking. "I-I...Kevin?" Edd heard a relieved sigh.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's Kevin. Are you okay?"

I didn't answer. While I was emotionally exhausted now, soon I would be horrified that Kevin had found me like this.

"I'm fine," I breathed, trying to sound as sure as I could. It didn't work well, as my voice cracked.

"No you're not. Let me in."

_Uh oh. _The last thing I needed was for someone to actually _see _me like this, with tears running down my face.

"No."

Another sigh.

"D...Edd...please. I gotta know if you're okay. You're freakin' me out."

I chose not to reply, hoping he would take the hint and leave me in peace.

"If you don't open this door I'll go find a teacher to make you. Better yet, I'll just bust down the thing myself," he threatened.

He wasn't getting the hint. I sloppily pulled myself off the ground, my head spinning with the effort. I unlocked the door and let it swing open, keeping my eyes on the floor. I heard Kevin give a slight gasp, muttering a curse word under his breath.

"What happened?" he asked hesitantly.

"Nothing," I said as non-nonchalantly as I could muster. He scoffed, taking my face in his hands and lifting my chin to make me look at him.

"Bull-crap," he claimed. I shrugged.

"Fine. Be that way," he said. He let go of my face long enough to wrap his arms around my waist and hoisting me up over his shoulder. I know normally I would have protested, but I was still in the process of calming down, so my body went limp in his arms. He carried me through the empty hallways and out one of the side doors, heading straight to the football field. It was a grey afternoon, and it smelled wet, but there was no sign of rain just yet. I bounced on Kevin's shoulder and realized he was carrying me up the bleachers. Part of me wondered if I was difficult to carry. Most of me didn't care. He would put me down if he needed.

When we reached the top of the bleachers, Kevin slid my body off of his and sat me down on the cool bench and then sat beside me, leaning forward and to the side to face me properly.

"So spill."

I could only shrug. What was I supposed to say? My body was really starting to relax now, my eyes only half open and my posture less than exemplary. Instead of coming up with an explanation or avoiding the question like I normally would, I just stared at Kevin. I noticed his concerned and frustrated expression, which struck something inside of me that warned me to be cautious around him. Years of torment and borderline bullying argued the validity of my instinct to keep far far away from Kevin Barr. In my fatigue drunken state, however, I ignored these subtle reminders and instead chose to tell the truth.

"I have a disorder. I get panic attacks," I stated casually, looking into Kevin's dark eyes. They swam with confusion and something else...worry?

Strange.

The ginger ran a hand through his hair, looking at me skeptically. "So you just...freak out? Why?"

I shrugged. "There are a few theories. I cannot control them, and only recently could I feel the oncoming presence of one."

"Is that why you practically sprinted out of the lunch room?"

I quirked an eyebrow. "You followed me?"

Kevin's face flushed. "N-no, I mean, yeah, I guess. I just- I saw you running out like someone was chasing you and I wanted to know what was going on. You ran in the bathroom and just started freaking out, and I thought you were like, _dying, _or something. I tried to talk to you, but you didn't freaking respond so I only got more freaked out. I was seriously yelling at you for like, five minutes."

I blinked. _That long? _I yawned. I knew what was happening. A panic attack took everything out of me, emotionally and physically, and afterwards, I usually blacked out or fell asleep for a couple hours until my body recovered. Even now, I fought to keep my eyes open. I shivered, my sleepiness making me cold.

"What? What are you doing?"

"I'm so..._tired." _I ground out, wrapping my arms around myself. I tried to stay awake, to keep talking with Kevin, but my body was fighting harder. I saw surprised when something fell on my head, before strong hands maneuvered the soft thing on my body properly, pulling my hands through sleeves much too big, popping my head through the top. I was in Kevin's baseball hoodie, and I smiled. It was incredibly soft, warm and it smelled of the jock's cologne. I attempted to thank the redhead for the jacket, but his dead voice stopped me.

"Here. Just don't tell anyone," he said softly, pulling my head down onto his lap. I responded, pulling my feet up onto the bench, pulling my knees up to my stomach, and my fists up to my chest. I felt his warm hands touch me, one landing on my shoulder and the other on my head, pulling the black hair that had fallen out of my beanie behind my ear. It was comforting. I felt safe there, overwhelmed with the need to trust the boy whose lap I was currently using as a pillow. There was no thought as to where I needed to be, what I was doing, or whether or not the bench beneath me was sanitary.

There was nothing but the sound of our breathing, calm and deep.

"Thank you," I breathed, my voice almost non-existent.

Then I fell fast asleep.

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**Writing is therapeutic.**

** I hope you enjoyed my little one-shot. If there are any one-shots, drabbles or prompts you want me to try out, leave it an a review. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2- Prologue

Many people thought they knew Eddward Marion. If asked, they would tell you that Eddward was a thin, gangly creature who stuttered a lot. Others would say that he was a brilliant person, a genius even. They would say he was always nervous, probably due to his incredible shyness. Many would swear he was a very kind boy, though his social awkwardness kept him from having a large amount of friends. A few would whisper of scientist parents, who had raised the boy to enter the medical field despite his protests.

You might even hear rumors of what lay underneath the beanie he wore everyday- nothing, because he had cancer and had lost all of his hair, a very large scar, most likely from an injury that had made him both smart and socially inept, or curly hair, because he was far too embarrassed to show it. Whatever the reason, many people noticed and was curious about what the boy was hiding under his cap.

And, if you should ask those who knew him best, they would say there was more to him than met the eye.

Those who were graced with his presence often barely noticed him. He was always in the back corner, his eyes on the notes he was taking and his mouth shut. He was rarely called on, and never worked in groups if he didn't have to. Most assumed the boy just didn't care for company, and left it at that. They assumed he was stuck up. They assumed he was too shy. They assumed he was already done with the project.

If he were to present in front of a class, he would stand very straight, moving very quickly through the material he had, looking uncomfortable but determined. Many thought he became a bit different during such times, though the attributed his change of attitude to his perfectionism. Some thought he faked his confidence for a good grade. Others? Well, they thought he was just a fake all around.

Few knew of his past in junior high. It was basic knowledge that he had been picked on, but to what extent most didn't understand. They were not horrible bullies, but they were effective. Some believed his shy nature was a result of being verbally harassed during those years. Others believed it was because of his timid personality that he had been made fun of.

Regardless, those who had seen it themselves knew it didn't matter either way.

There were, surprisingly, quite a few people that thought they knew him.

They thought he was a pretty open book.

A kind, awkward nerd that was treated ill for a time.

A thin boy who knew too much for his age.

A lonely kid who was too shy to make many friends.

A strange, socially immature type of person.

A quiet, smart being who just didn't have many people to talk to.

A nerd.

A geek.

A wimp.

A genius.

A loner.

A_ dork._

Oh yes, many claimed that they knew who he was. They, for some strange reason, seemed to think that because he acted a certain way in public, they had every right to label him and call that 'getting to know him'. They thought that being near him, and seeing just how he handled a few different situations made him easy to read. Made him something they could understand, as surely he was socially awkward he couldn't keep anything to himself anyway. He was just that, someone the students loved to label for their own convenience, as it somehow made them a better person for doing so. They thought they were doing the world a favor by knowing his name, somehow righting whatever had wronged him by simply taking the time to memorize the symbols that made up the beginning of his rhetorical identity.

His name was Eddward Marion.

And this is his story.


End file.
